


A Lover's Thoughts

by ComingandGoingByBubble



Category: A Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder - Lutvak/Freedman
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-10 07:21:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5576497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ComingandGoingByBubble/pseuds/ComingandGoingByBubble
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sibella sits up and thinks on the past on the eve of Monty's awaited verdict. Pre That Horrible Woman. One shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Lover's Thoughts

"We love each other more than anyone else could."

Monty's words were echoing inside of her head as she sat up, wide awake, the evening before his awaited verdict, which was more than likely execution. She couldn't bear the thought of her Monty being strung up and hanged. It was all too much, too awful, too gruesome for her to believe.

The thought of Monty dying, of him never kissing her again, of him never whispering, "My Sibella," in her ear again was too much for the blonde.

And to think of what his last memories of her would be. Her being so spiteful and angry at him throughout that awful dinner at Highhurst.

Then, they barely spoke at Phoebe and his wedding. The blonde just couldn't bring herself to say anything to him, nevertheless look at him. He was so happy with Phoebe but she knew that he loved her too.

Her heart had felt like it was breaking as she watched them dance happily together. She hated seeing Monty with anyone else but her.

Then when she had gotten home, Lionel had told her that Monty had been arrested on the charge of murder and of course she went to the courthouse to testify. Granted, what she told the judge may not have been the most correct thing to say but she was still angry at him, even though she did catch his eye a few times, and they shared a glance. What she said probably hadn't helped his case but there was no going back in time to change it now.

Even still, here she sat, worried and distraught over the mere thought of his execution. Sickened by it.

She didn't want go. It was a terrible and selfish confession but she really didn't want to see the life leave Monty's eyes. It would be so painful and horrid, but she knew that he'd want to see her at least one last time so she relented and told him that she would be there.

She glanced at the black dress she had set aside on her hope chest for tomorrow and felt her stomach churn. She covered her mouth with her hand and didn't know whether she was going to vomit from anxiety and dread or cry from despair and sadness, or worse both.

Feeling faint, and as though she could use a turn about the house, she got up to go sit in the parlor. With Lionel away on business and her having sent the servants out for the night, the house seemed empty and hollow. The moonlight streamed in through the sheer curtains and Sibella felt as pale as the moon looked tonight.

She sat curled up in a chair, frightened beyond words. She would have never thought that Monty would ever encounter a fate such as this. To be framed for murder. It was terrible.

She couldn't deny that even she had had her suspicions about Monty when the D'ysquiths had begun dying off like flies but to find out that they were true was another thing. Though she harbored a guess that maybe Lord Adalbert's death wasn't of Monty's doing due to how he reacted that night, she had a nagging feeling about the others.

She felt as though she was going to be sick. Monty, her childhood friend, her lover, was a murderer, and he was going to be condemned to die in the morning, how could she sleep on such a fact?

She swallowed and wiped away the tears that were suddenly falling from her face as she dwelt on the fact that she was more than likely going to wear that black dress tomorrow morning and go to Monty's execution unless some sort of miracle happened.

Just as she was pondering such things, there was a knock at the door.

Rising from the chair, confused, Sibella went to answer it, wondering who in the world would be at her door at this time of night.

"Mrs. Navarro," said Sibella in shock as she opened the door, the Countess standing before her. "Whatever are you doing here?"

Phoebe looked up at her. "You would do anything to save Montague if you could, am I correct in assuming that, Mrs. Holland?" she asked her directly, wasting no time getting to the heart of the matter.

Sibella, startled by the bluntness of the question, took a few seconds to answer.

"Of course, of course I would. Why do you ask?" her eyes narrowed at the brunette.

Phoebe took her hand and gave her a blue piece of paper with her handwriting on it.

"I have a plan," she said simply.


End file.
